


The Outrageous Alpha

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Gabriel, Knotting, M/M, Omega Dean, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13302129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: Dean runs his errand to the DMV. Waiting could have ended up being torture, but he meets a short Alpha with a trick or two up his sleeve to keep Dean entertained.





	The Outrageous Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! I promised you Gabe how many installments ago? He's finally here, ready to get personally attached to Dean. Literally, since Dean's in Heat. ;) Be prepared to read the most boring public sex scene you've ever come across! ;D I'm not trashing my own writing here, it's just this kind of sex that happens to be really boring, but hopefully funny too. ;)
> 
> Beta read by my awesome Beta [YouCantKeepMeDown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/YouCantKeepMeDown). (And Grammarly.) Any remaining mistakes are my own.

The entrance to the DMV has some kind of air lock. You step inside, doors shut behind you, and then the doors in front of you open three seconds later. Dean smells something akin to lemon that tickles his nose and makes him sneeze several times in a row when he’s trapped in the lock. Then it finally opens and he can go inside. It’s only 10 A.M. and the place is already packed. It’s ridiculously hot inside for his already overheated body. His Heat had struck just an hour after he came home yesterday, prematurely triggered by his and Michael’s endeavours. Boy, had he regretted turning Michael’s offer down. But getting a Friday off is a first for him and the DMV isn’t open during weekends so he really didn’t have much of a choice. He takes a number and looks around. All the seats are taken and there are enough people that many are standing. All look equally drowsy and sweaty.

_This fucking sucks._

He sneezes a couple of times and goes to lean against a pillar. The place is already taken but a low growl and a quick drop of fangs have the occupant moving out of the way. Habitually he rubs his temple against the pillar before he leans against it. At least the nasty lemon smell is gone.

It takes him a couple of moments to notice why. He disinterestedly looks around at the men and women around the room, suddenly realising he doesn’t know if they’re Alphas or Omegas. He can’t smell a thing. Nothing. Nada. He straightens up with a distressed whine and someone puts a hand on his arm. “Whoa, there, kitto. It’s temporary. Calm down.” Dean’s head snaps to the side to lock gaze with the man standing beside him. The guy wears the same type of clothes as him, but better quality, unmended. He’s short, has light brown, wavy hair with honey highlights, lovely, whiskey-coloured eyes (and he’s not even flaring) with a mischievous glint in them. “It’s the chemicals. Makes you temporarily noseblind. The effect will wear off in a day or two after you leave here,” the guy explains.

“Fucking hell. But _why_?”

“You never heard the expression ‘Gone on a DMV spree’?”

Dean shakes his head.

The guy takes a lollipop from his pocket, removes the wrapping and pops it into his mouth. “You’re not from around then, I suppose. The general air in here used to be shock-full of aggression and distress. Lots of quarrelling. It culminated a few years ago when someone went insane and went on a murder spree. Since then the government allowed them to use gas otherwise reserved for chemical warfare, to keep people docile.”

“Huh.” Dean looks around again, considering. People are indeed a lot more docile or downright lethargic than you’d expect from a waiting room. Few conversations are going on and not many have brought anything to occupy their minds with. He sees two women and one man knitting, somebody is drawing in a sketchbook and one woman is reading. For the rest, nothing. It’s not natural. But Dean finds himself focused inward from the lack of input from his nose. In a desperate try to smell _anything_ he starts siphoning, his grunting drawing a few disinterested looks.

The short man beside him chuckles. “That won’t do you any good, kitto. Believe me. With how often I have to visit here I’ve tried everything to circumvent the effect. Nothing short of wearing a scuba-diving oxygen tank with an airtight mask will help. But those are heavy and the bastards still make you take the mask off to ID.”

“You did that?”

“Yup.”

Dean laughs in spite of himself and leans his head back on the pillar. His skin feels itchy, and air scarce. He’s leaking slick. Not much but enough to add to his discomfort. The curse of having Heats. If scent would have carried it would have been to his advantage in a setting like this. He closes his eyes and pants openmouthed, trying to get enough air down. It won’t work, since it’s not the actual room temperature that’s the culprit. He thinks about yesterday, fantasises about a full threesome with Michael and the Siberian Alpha. Being knotted by Michael while Michael’s being pounded into. Or being knotted from both ends at once. That’d be something. Yeah.., this kind of thinking does exactly nothing to _relieve_ heat symptoms. Instead it just makes Dean more slick. He thinks about Michael. Wondering if he can be it for Dean.

“Fuck, this sucks,” he complains.

“No shit. I have a brother who is partially noseblind. He flat out refuses to go here. He can smell so little that he treasures what he _can_ smell too much to lose it even temporarily. But the lucky bugger just has to make a phone call and the DMV sends someone to him instead.”

Dean opens his eyes and looks down on the unfairly chipper, candy eating man beside him. “He’s a big shot, huh? Couldn’t he make a call and make them come to you too?”

“Probably. But he’s still pissed off about the rotten fish I put in the vents of his office last year. He couldn’t figure out why people acted so strange until it stank so much even he could smell it.”

Dean laughs again. 

“Besides, he thinks I should stop breaking traffic laws. He’s all ‘If you keep the speed limits they won’t snag your license and you won’t have to go down there all the time to get it back.’ Would you believe? Whatta guy,” the man says and makes a mock-eye roll.

Dean sniggers, mood shifting steadily to the better. “Yeah. Dunno what he’s thinking. Sounds like backwards logic to me,” he jokes.

The man pops the lollipop out of his mouth and points at Dean with it. “See? You get me, kitto. I like you.”

Dean snorts in amusement and looks around again. “But tell me, what’s the point of keeping the temperature so high in here?”

“What? Oh, that. There’s no point to that. AC is broke. Happens often enough.”

“It fucking sucks.”

“You're telling me? I should have brought a bag instead of worn a jacket.”

“Yeah? You try being in Heat in these conditions,” Dean complains. 

“Whoa. Hold it right there, cowboy. You're telling me that you,” the short man makes a sweeping gesture to emphasis Dean's stature, “are an Omega?”

“Yeah.”

“In Heat?”

“Yeah?” Dean finds himself smiling in bemusement at the short guy's urgency. 

“In Heat _right now_?” short guy wants clarified pointing at the floor by their feet. 

“Yup. Leaking slick and everything,” Dean chuckles. 

Short guy turns to face him head on, popping his lollipop out of his mouth. “Well, _hello there_ , tall handsome stranger. You're friendly neighborhood Alpha at your service,” he says with a meaningful smirk and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

Dean can't help himself - he laughs. 

“Oh wait! Where are my manners,” short guy exclaims and stuffs the lollipop back into his mouth. He grabs Dean's hands and cups them together. “Hold it like this,” he instructs. Then he digs into his pockets to pull out fistfuls of candy that he dumps in Dean’s hands. Lollipops, candy bars, a bag of gummy worms, chewing gum. And still he keeps digging in his many jacket pockets. Dean laughs half in bewilderment half in delight. Caramels. A small bag of glitter. A bottle of water. A small leather case that short guy quickly fishes from the pile again with an “Oh, wait. Sorry, I'm gonna need to keep that one.”

“Was that _lockpicks?_ ” Dean chortles while the pile in his hands overflows, spilling candy to the floor.

“You saw nothing,” short guy says and taps his nose conspiratorially while side-eyeing the people around suspiciously in an exaggerated manner. 

Dean laughs harder.

Short guy pulls out his phone, holds up his finger in a ‘Just a sec’ gesture and makes a call. “Hi. Gabe no longer owns this phone. Try another number. Toodeloo,” he says before pushing a button then he hangs up and drops the phone on the pile.

Dean can't stop laughing. This is downright absurd. 

Lastly he pulls out a car key from his back pocket and drops on the pile. “There. That's all I can manage here and now.”

“Fucking hell,” Dean laughs. “Man, you're a hoot. This is great and all but I can't afford to keep a phone.”

“I'm giving you the phone, not the bills for it. Don't worry. It's mostly just my brothers texting me anyway. In fact, if you give them random answers and _don't_ tell them you're not me, I'll consider it you doing _me_ a favour.” Short guy, _Gabe_ , if the answering machine message is to be believed, looks so full of mischief it sets Dean off laughing again. 

“That sounds like fun! I'll definitely do that.” Dean manages to pull the pile close to his body and shift it so he can pick up the phone with one hand and pocket it. He doesn't want to drop it like he’s dropped so much of the candy already. He pockets the water bottle too. It's a good thing they're wearing the same type of multi-pocket jackets. He picks up the car key fob and holds it out to Gabe. “And thanks but you can keep the car. I can't afford to keep a car at the moment. Unless it's a van or a truck. Is it a van or a truck?” He withholds the keys when Gabe reaches out to accept them back.

“No, it isn't. It's a McLaren P1.”

Dean blinks, looks at the key fob and whistles. “Damn. That’s _awesome_ ,” he exclaims and hands the key fob back.

“And you still won’t accept it?” Gabe asks dubiously.

“Dude, I’d have to spend all my nights on the street guarding it, the gas would cost me a fortune, and I can’t exactly drive a couch in it. I ain’t making a grab for territory I can’t defend, if you feel me. But _fuck me_!” Dean grins, impressed. His heart might belong to the classic cars but he likes cars, period. And he’s only ever seen McLarens in car magazines.

“That’s the hope,” Gabe chirps and waggles his eyebrows, making Dean laugh again.

Dean manages to pocket the rest of Gabe’s offering, including the stuff that fell to the floor. He hesitates a moment when he looks at the little plastic zip bag of glitter, but ends up pocketing it too. You never know. Maybe there’ll be some instance he’ll want to look extra fabulous in the future. He straightens up and looks down at the hopeful, slyly smirking suitor. “I don't know, man. I'm kinda tall and you're not. Without a seat I'd have to stand with bent legs and that'd be a real killer for 20 to 30 minutes. Besides, could you even knot me and reach my neck gland at the same time?” Dean asks with a lopsided smile. Not that the neck gland is supposed to be stimulated in this setting. He’s mostly just curious.

“No problemo, kitto,” Gabe answers with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. The next second he grabs onto Dean's shoulder and uses the grip as leverage for a swinging jump, lodging himself onto Dean’s back. He humps Dean and bites at his neck-gland but outside of his jacket.

Dean _howls_ with laughter. 

They’re drawing attention from other people in the waiting area (probably have since Gabe started pouring candy in Dean’s hands) but most smile or chuckle at their antics, probably welcoming the distraction.

Dean reaches back to pull Gabe off of him. He’s starting to get a semi from the humping and the light stimulation of his gland, not to mention how he’s leaking even more slick now. He gets his arms around Gabe just above the ass, still laughing like a moron, and… suddenly he feels something. Something hard, warm, and wiggling. He freezes. “Whoa. Either you’ve got two dicks or that’s a tail.”

Gabe glides down to the floor. “Oh bugger.”

“It _is_ a tail! _Awesome_!” Dean spins around to look at him with excitement. “Is it sensitive? Like, if I’d suck it, bite it, or nuzzle it, would it be uncomfortable? Or would it feel good? If we were knotted… and you lay on your belly facing one way, and I lay on my back in the opposite direction. Ignoring the fact that it might be uncomfortable for you to have your dick bent backwards… could you, like, wag your tail and jiggle my balls with it?”

At first Gabe’s expression is guarded, but while Dean talks his expression shifts back to something impish again. “Bucko, if that's your reaction to find an extra, unanticipated appendage in somebody’s pants, you just made yourself the man of my dreams.”

Dean sniggers. “Dude. There is exactly no way an extra appendage in an Alpha’s pants could ever be something negative.”

Gabe throws his head back and laughs. “Yep. That settles it. Definitely the man of my dreams,” he states when he’s collected himself. “So. About that knotting?” He waggles his eyebrows meaningfully again.

“Yeah, sure. If you’ve got condoms. But I ain’t doing that standing up. I’m gonna have to sit on you. I’m sorta heavy? You sure you could take it?” Gabe looks sturdy enough but Dean’s never been with an Alpha this short without a comfy bed to lie on. He genuinely worries the little guy has bitten off more than he can chew.

Gabe sniggers. “Don’t worry, kitto. You have no idea how well having brothers prepares you for being sat on,” he says with a cheeky wink.

Dean sniggers. “I’ve only got one, but believe me, I can definitely imagine.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” A voice to the side of them draws their attention. The speaker is a woman in her sixties by Dean’s estimate. She smiles at them from her seat. “I couldn’t help to overhear―”

“Nobody could,” a grumpy Juvie beside her mutters.

“―but if you need a seat so you can knot comfortably, my grandkit won’t mind giving up his.”

The Juvie rolls his eyes. “ _Naaa_ naa,” he protests with a whine.

“Oh shush. You’ll get it when you present yourself. If you’re too lazy to stand you can sit in my lap. Now give your seat to these gentlemen so the poor Omega can get some relief,” she scolds.

Gabe and Dean share a look and snigger. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it. Nowadays I only get my Heat once or twice a year, but they get worse every time so I can relate to the wish to alleviate it.”

The Juvie scoots to sit in his grandmother’s lap with a glum expression. “If you hadn’t left gramps you wouldn’t have to worry about that,” he mutters.

“If I hadn’t left gramps, I’d have bigger problems than difficult Heats,” she counters dryly.

Gabe’s massaging his dick outside of his pants, it visibly growing. “So do you want me to prep you first, or…?”

“No need. The way I’m feeling, if you’d try sticking your finger in I’d probably swallow your whole fist,” Dean says, grinning at him. Prepping can be nice, and he’s heard that some people need it. But for him, it’s more of a courtesy thing. As soon as he’s horny he’s able to relax enough for it to basically painless to go right in.

Gabe laughs. “Well. That’d be a whole ‘nother kind of interesting that isn’t suited for general audiences.”

“No shit. Not to mention how uncomfortable the position of your arm would be if I insisted on sitting.” 

They snigger about it while Gabe sits down, takes his dick out and puts on a condom, and Dean opens his belt buckle, unzips, and pulls down his pants the least necessary amount. When he sinks down on top of Gabe’s dick they both purr in relieved contentment. Gabe thrusts a couple of times then Dean can finally feel the knot swelling inside of him, finally easing the itching, overheated feeling and bringing a sated calm. The grumpy Juvie has been following their doings with avid curiosity. Gabe wraps his arms around Dean and leans his cheek against his back. “You never seen a knotting up close before, squirt?” he asks the Juvie.

“Uh… no. I don’t get what the fuss is about? That seems so impersonal to me,” he answers, torn between curiosity and being miffed about having to abandon his seat to sit on his grandma’s lap.

“Like this, it is impersonal, but it still feels damned nice anyway for both of us,” Gabe answers. Dean purrs a lazy agreement. “This is just how you do it in public not to be obtrusive,” Gabe goes on. “If I wanted to make it better for him I’d go ahead and bite and suck right here.” He pulls down Dean’s jacket to point out the neck gland. “I’m not gonna do that unless he asks me to because things will get a whole lot rowdier if I do. The thing he secrets from there will drive you mad whether you can smell it or not.”

“It’s pure bliss,” Dean fills in. “And it works if you just pinch it and milk it with your fingers too.”

“It does?” Gabe asks in surprise. Dean sees that the statement caught the interest of several people around them. Gabe, naturally, reaches up to try and instantly turns Dean to blissed out jello keening a high-pitched purr. “Far out! That’s a neato trick!” He lets go when he himself spasm a couple of times, coming.

Somebody remarks that that should be general knowledge and Gabe’s conversation with the Juvie and his grandma goes on but Dean’s too out of it to listen. When he comes back enough to himself to follow the conversation, the Juvie is deeply invested in his impromptu sexEd lesson. “Okay, so um… I was raised in a closed Progressive community before my parents died and I was sent to live with Nana―”

“And I’m not a Prog,” the grandma chips in with a tone that makes it clear she has a lot of thoughts about Progs, and few of them are good.

“Right. And I’m beginning to understand that a lot of things I was taught are different or not at all what I was told. But there are a lot of things I don’t get. Like this whole business of buying sex―”

There are several gasps of outrage around them, some scoffs and some snorts. Dean scowls over his shoulder at the youngster. “Buying sex? What the hell gave you that idea?” Dean says while the grandmother mumbles an ‘Oh dear’.

“Um.” The Juvie blushes and licks his lips submissively, cowering under the number of hostile glares in his direction. “I mean… like you did with the candy?”

“Yeah, no. That wasn’t paying for sex, kit,” Dean says.

Gabe picks up the thread. “Since you’re asking out of a place of wanting to understand rather than stating the assumption like a fact, I’ll explain it to you. You don’t know what you’ll present as yet, right?” The Juvie shakes his head. “Okay so this might end up applying to you either way. Omegas got wanderlust and they’re badass. That means that if you’re of no use to them they’ll leave, and if you try to bully them they’ll rip you apart. And don’t go thinking this doesn’t apply to small females because it definitely does. So as an Alpha, it’s your job to get and hold their attention. You need to show them you can pull your own weight. So you give them a gift to catch their interest. Whatever you give them, it needs to be something you can afford to spare and something they need in the moment. Food, drink, entertainment, a place to rest. In a situation like this for an instance, a place to sit would have been enough, or maybe half a bottle of water. It depends on how well off the Omega is and what you’re aiming to achieve.”

“I woulda taken you for the water bottle,” Dean confirms.

“So why showering him with all those gifts?”

“Because I was hoping to convince him to let me spend the rest of his Heat with me, and because I’m not the only Alpha in the room. All it would have taken is one Alpha on a chair deep-purring and I would have been out of the game for sure. And listen closely, because this is important. The gift? It’s not for knotting. It’s to be allowed to keep flirting or talking. No Omega owes you anything because you give them stuff. You can’t pay for sex because if you don’t turn the Omega on their scent will keep you impotent. Even in a setting like this, with an Omega in Heat. If he wasn’t willing his slick production would have stopped and his muscles locked in a way that makes penetration impossible.”

“Not to mention that I would have dropped fangs and roared my denial,” Dean adds. He likes that Gabe takes the time to explain things to the Juvie. Growing up in a closed community of any kind can really limit what information is given, and the whole knotting/mating business should be something even a small kit has a grasp of. No wonder the Progs had such a high fail rate picking up non-Progs.

“So you get it? The gift is our equivalent of a bird’s pretty plumage and singing voice. And another thing, unless you’re courting an Omega in the slums barely surviving, don’t give money. Feel free to buy them what they need but no cash. That’s perceived as a weakness in you.”

Dean agrees. “If I need money I get it myself. You try to give me cash I’ll take for granted that you have bad imagination or don’t care for what my actual needs are.”

They continue talking, eating some of the candy that Dean splits between the four of them, until it’s the grandma and Juvie’s turn to be serviced. The Juvie, there to get a permit to take driving lessons, says thanks and skips ahead. The grandma thanks them for talking to her grandkit since he’s in a rebellious phase and won’t listen much to her about things that dispute what his parents told him. Then she too gets up and leaves. 

Gabe’s turn comes before Dean’s. They’re still knotted together and have to hobble awkwardly to the service station. The woman behind the glass gives Gabe a fed up look before he even has the time to speak. “If I never have to see you again in my life, Gabe, I’d be a happy Omega.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. I know you love me, Brenda. You miss me when I’m gone,” Gabe refutes with a grin and an eyebrow waggle, reaching around Dean to drop a thick roll of cash into the bowl under the glass on the counter.

“I don’t have _time_ to miss you,” Brenda says dryly, takes the cash and procures an envelope from under the counter, that she drops in the bowl.

Gabe takes it and pockets it. “Now you’re exaggerating. It’s been over two months since last time.”

Brenda gives him a wry smirk and raises an eyebrow. “Lots of business trips lately?” she asks with dry amusement.

Gabe mock-gasps. “However did you know!?”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Have a good day, Gabe.”

“You too, Brenda. Give Johnny my regards,” Gabe says and gives her a friendly salute before bringing Dean with him, hobbling back to their seat.

Dean sniggers as they sit down. “Gee. You really weren’t kidding about coming here often. And they just hand you your license back?”

“Yup. That’s the way it is when you have money. The state sees a cash cow, they’re going to milk it, not throw it in jail. And it’s not like nabbing my license will stop me from driving.”

“I bet your parents regret the day they paid your driver’s ed,” Dean jokes.

“Naaah. I used to borrow dad’s car without asking and take it for a spin long before I was allowed to drive. Dad strictly forbade me and threatened severe punishment if I didn’t stop. So I stopped. ...And started borrowing the neighbours’ cars instead.”

Dean throws back his head laughing. “And that didn’t bring worse punishment?”

“Nope. One thing dad’s good at is seeing the futility in fighting the inevitable. He had me properly taught, bought me a car, and gave it to me in exchange for a promise that I’d never hurt anyone with it, and any legal consequences would be paid with my own money. Still to this day haven’t been in an accident.”

“I guess crime pays sometimes, huh?”

“Yeah, but I blame the whole ‘be the worst you can be’ thing I’ve got going, on my older brother. I’m dubbed the prankster of the family. But it isn’t really true. He kept doing all these pranks without getting caught. I wanted to be like him and tried to do what he did, but I kept getting caught at it. So, in the end, I went for doing the most outrageous things I could think of instead of aiming for stealth. All my pranks had my name written all over it. And I’ll have you know that it’s what led me to the job I have today.”

“What _do_ you work with?”

“PR and advertising.”

Dean sniggers. “You know, for some reason that doesn’t come as a surprise.”

* * *

When it’s Dean’s turn they’re no longer knotted together. Gabe lets Dean go to the counter by himself. He ends up being served by Brenda too. “He’s quite a charmer, isn’t he?” she remarks with a little smile while Dean fills out the necessary forms and pays the application fee for a license.

“Yeah, he is.”

“You can consider yourself lucky if you manage to bag him.”

Dean snorts and smirks at her. “Not for nothing, Brenda, but if he manages to bag me, _he_ , is the lucky one,” he says and throws her a wink that makes her titter in delight.

“That’s the spirit,” she says and stamps his application with a big ‘approved’ stamp without looking at it. “Do you have any preferred dates for the driving test?”

“Nah. But it has to be either late afternoon or during the weekend so it doesn’t collide with work.”

“Okay. Let me see…” she taps away on her computer until she finds a time that suits him a couple of weeks later. He leaves her getting a friendly wave goodbye and a wish of good luck with Gabe.

Gabe is waiting outside when he comes out. He’s leaning against an orange McLaren with an impish smirk and his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you say, Bucko? Want to go for a ride with me? Find out why they keep nabbing my license?”

As much as Dean is pining for Michael he’s still in Heat and Gabe’s pretty damn awesome. Plus he kinda really wants to see Gabe naked. Dude’s got a tail for crying out loud! It’s something that needs to be explored. “Hells yeah, I do!”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments! :D I try to answer them as I post new installments.


End file.
